I Drove a Family Friend to A&E – and his condition shifted from peaky to scarcely conscious on the way.
Our family friend has always been a larger than life personality. Clever and unemotional – and never one to refuse to another brandy. Whenever our families celebrated, he’s the one gossiping about the latest scandal to catch up with a member of parliament, or amusing us with accounts of the outrageous philandering of different footballers from Sheffield Wednesday over the past 40 years.
Frequently, we would share the morning of Christmas Day with him and his family, before going our separate ways. But, one Christmas, roughly a decade past, when he was planning to join family abroad, he fell down the stairs, with a glass of whisky in hand, suitcase in the other, and fractured his ribs. He was treated at the hospital and advised against air travel. Thus, he found himself back with us, doing his best to manage, but looking increasingly peaky.
The Day Progressed
The hours went by, however, the humorous tales were absent as they usually were. He was convinced he was OK but his appearance suggested otherwise. He attempted to go upstairs for a nap but found he could not; he tried, gingerly, to eat Christmas lunch, and failed.
So, before I’d so much as put on a festive hat, my mother and I made the choice to drive him to the emergency room.
We considered summoning an ambulance, but how long would that take on Christmas Day?
A Rapid Decline
By the time we got there, he had moved from being unwell to almost unconscious. Fellow patients assisted us get him to a ward, where the characteristic scent of hospital food and wind filled the air.
Different though, was the spirit. One could see valiant efforts at Christmas spirit all around, despite the underlying clinical and somber atmosphere; tinsel hung from drip stands and dishes of festive dessert sat uneaten on tables next to the beds.
Positive medical attendants, who certainly would have chosen to be at home, were moving busily and using that charming colloquial address so particular to the area: “duck”.
Heading Home for Leftovers
After our time at the hospital concluded, we made our way home to chilled holiday sides and holiday television. We watched something daft on television, likely a mystery drama, and took part in a more foolish pastime, such as a regionally-themed property trading game.
It was already late, and it had begun to snow, and I remember experiencing a letdown – was Christmas effectively over for us?
Healing and Reflection
While our friend did get better in time, he had truly experienced a lung puncture and subsequently contracted a serious circulatory condition. And, while that Christmas is not my most cherished memory, it has entered into our family history as “the Christmas I saved a life”.
Whether that’s strictly true, or contains some artistic license, I couldn’t possibly comment, but its annual retelling certainly hasn’t hurt my ego. In keeping with our friend’s motto: “don’t let the truth get in the way of a good story”.
